


Night Terrors

by Writerwithagoal



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, two idiots who can't get their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerwithagoal/pseuds/Writerwithagoal
Summary: Quentin can't look at Eliot without seeing The Monster. Eliot is giving him space because that's what everyone says he needs. Quentin is alone in the loft when Eliot has a night terror. Emotions are high. Confessions happen.





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> SO! This was supposed to be fluffy and then I wrote it and well it's really fucking not. I'm sorry Maf this isn't fluffy but it does have a goodish ending...

_Eliot was so tired. Bone aching tired, as though he hadn’t slept in a month or two. Groaning he stood up straight. Wincing he put his hand to his abdomen wincing when it hurt to touch. He was in the middle of a battlefield; bodies littered around him. He was not sure where he was or what was happening. He could hear people shouting, but the smoke made seeing harder to mange._

_Dropping he laid among the bodies on the floor of the room confused. At least his confused brain knew that if he didn’t know what was going on it was better to hide among the dead then to try and find the living. Wrapping his arms around his head he closed his eyes and prayed that it would be over soon. Why was there so much blood? Rolling over his mouth opened in a silent scream. Quentin, Margo, and Fen were laying there behind him eyes unfocused, faces locked in their last moments. Scrambling he reached for them pulling them close to his chest._

_Why was this so hard, how did he manage to ruin everything good in his life. Eliot had wanted to woo Quentin, see Margo succeed at being High King. Find Fen a husband who would actually love her the way she deserved. God he was too late to do any of it. Rocking back and forth he held onto the bodies of his friends._

_As he sat there sobbing and bleeding, holding onto Margo and Q the scene started to shift. Everyone around him started to fade. Suddenly he was standing all alone in the ruins of Fillory. Smoldering charcoal and rumble coughing he started stumbling through the ruins of Whitespire looking for any sign of life. Anything that would prove he wasn’t alone here._

 

~~~~~~

 

Quentin walked through the living room of Kady’s loft. It had been a rough two weeks. Alice and him were complicated, but also it was familiar and that was nice...right? They’d started whatever this was as the count down to stopping everything had hit a high point and not stopped. It wasn’t the same or even vaguely similar to how they’d been, It didn’t fit anymore not really, but they knew each other.

 

Then Everett and the Twins were finished or at least trapped together. All that was left was for them to pick up the shattered pieces left. Broken pieces of themselves, of the library, of the worlds really. So they’d moved forward fixing things as best as they could. 

 

Julia, Kady, and Penny had taken to traveling. Something about trying the weird tension between them.Then Fen had canceled Margo’s eternal banishment for saving the realms. So Margo was helping Fen lead as her chancellor of something or other. Which left Quentin and Alice alone in Kady’s loft.

 

Well when Alice was there, often she was at the library or checking on hedges since Kady was gone. Rubbing his head he put his feelings on the back burner again. They weren’t in the clear yet. There were still factions of the library who wanted to finish what Everett had started. Hedges who were angry from being mistreated for so long. So feelings weren’t really that important. They’d work it out or not when they had the time too. So they kissed, fucked, and slept.

 

Suddenly the loft was ringing with a piercing scream. Eliot. Running through the loft to the room Margo had made up for him on the first floor. Stopping at the door he took a deep breath. He could do this, he could comfort Eliot. For fuckssake this was his best friend. Slowly one foot in front of the other he moved closer to the bed.

 

It was surreal to see him looking so human, and broken. Whimpering Eliot twisted in his sleep. From what Margo had told Q, Eliot was having horrific nightmares. Sometimes dealing with sleep paralysis. Reaching out gently he shook Eliot. Shaking his shoulders wasn’t working so he shifted to get a better grip and shook him just a little harder.

 

‘Wake up El, whatever you’re seeing isn’t real,” Q whispered, shaking Eliot a little harder as he sat on the edge of the large bed.

 

“Q don’t be dead,” Eliot whimpered, turning away from Q’s hand, only to reach out ahead of him as though he was trying to hold onto someone.

 

“I’m not dead El. I’m right here, you just need to open your eyes,” Quentin said, shaking him harder than before. He also rolled the tall man over so he was able to pull Eliot into his arms.

 

It broke Quentin’s heart to see his friend like this. Sure it was hard to look at Eliot most days. His brain just waiting for the Monster to arise and destroy everything again. Which was stupid and he knew it was a stupid fear. Shoving all the little voices in his head into a box he focused on the grown man with tear tracks down his face. Gods how had they gone from tranquility in Fillory past to this broken horrific life in the present.

 

Placing both hands on his shoulders Q shook him roughly seeing as the gentle wasn’t working. Pulling Eliot up into his arms he held the man trapped in his own mind. Gods this wasn’t fair. He should be back to his flamboyant and joyous self. Instead Eliot was squirming and shouting out for someone that was trying to get him to wake up. Holding Eliot to him, running his hands over Eliot’s back he stared at the wall. Willing Eliot to wake up or calm down.

 

As Quentin sat holding his friend and -no they didn’t have an _and_ . In this life, they didn’t get to be an and, just friends here in 2019 Earth. It had taken Quentin a year to come up with reasons, and rationalizations about why they didn’t work _here_ in this world. _Eliot_ was too scared to try, or believe in him. Maybe it was _him,_ the thought of being with hopeless, worthless Quentin made Eliot run. So Quentin had shoved his feelings, the what ifs, the if only's all into a box and triple taped it shut. Never to be evaluated or looked at critically. He’d done everything to avoid it. Not going back to Fillory unless he absolutely needed too.

  
~~~~~

Then the monster had happened, who was affectionate if wrong. Something about the Monster’s mannerisms which were so close to mimicking Eliot’s that it drove him deeper and deeper into focusing on getting the Monster out. Or locking him away again. Getting rid of him so they could mourn Eliot properly. Because _if_ El wasn’t in there then he wouldn’t feel guilty about trapping his body away.

 

The body that had held him tight when his own inner demons had flared, clawing for his soul. Beat the wolves off when his own nightmares had started back up of Martin Chatwin and all the other lives where they’d lost. The horrors his mind had pulled together from fantasy and reality to project onto the movie screen of his mind.

 

The arms that had swung Teddy up into the air all the time. The hands that had carved into the earth so that the carrots had enough room to flourish or the pumpkins had room to flower. Eyes that crinkled with strain before huffing and pulling out his glasses. Voice and laugh that filled a room without him really trying. Quentin had known that he’d stay with that body for eternity

 

 _Peaches and Plums_ that line had snapped him out of his drive. Baffled and broken him all at once. His- No Eliot was there struggling to hang on. Quentin knew that if Margo had been there. The only other one who knew what the two men had lived through, she’d have recognized the importance of the line. So if Eliot was fighting to come back then he’d fight for him too.

 

Except life wasn’t a fantasy and the heroes weren’t fine after the fights they had. Bruised and bloody life had rendered Quentin broken and internally struggling to reconcile the same fingers who’d onced trailed trails of pleasure over him with the same fingers that had ripped into him to break his arm.

 

So he’d backed up. Let Margo, Fen, Josh, hell even Alice and Kady take care of Eliot as he recovered. He’d visited his dad’s grave, fixed a few pieces of the model airplanes he’d shattered with the help of the Monster. Those that he could fix brought him a sense of inner peace. How had he managed to be the only one home during this night terror. Stroking his fingers over Eliot’s hair line, he struggled to swallow.

 

Sitting on the bed there in New York City looking down at the one person who knew him so well, that it scared him. Eliot had taken the memories, the lifetime of love and family only to decide that anything was better than Quentin Coldwater. When given a choice anything was better than loving fucked up Quentin.

 

_~~~~~~_

 

“Q, what happened, why are you crying?” El was blinking. Was he awake? Slowly he pulled away from the shorter man looking around his makeshift room in Kady’s loft.

 

“What is so wrong with me that when given the choice you bolted?”

 

“Coldwater what are you talking about, I’m being respectful. You and Alice, you’re dating, and I screwed that up for you once I’m not fucking that up for you again,” Eliot replied, confusion running through his head. What had he missed. Touching his own cheeks he felt the dampness of multiple tear tracts that had crisscrossed over his face while he slept. Oh. Night terror.

 

“I don’t know what me and Alice are, but I want an answer Waugh, why did you run? What is so inherently wrong with me that I mess everything up, Alice, Brakebills, Fillory, You and Me, Magic. Why am I so incapable of actually fixing anything?” Quentin asked, looking at his hands which were suddenly empty.

 

Eliot felt his mouth dry, he’d been trying to be respectful. Alice was happy and Quentin had seemed calm. From what he’d seen at Quentin, often times when he entered a room Q would just bolt. Julia and Margo had just shaken their heads and patted his back. _Time_ they’d said, he just needed time. Yet after a month, they were still barely able to handle being in the same room.

 

Margo, Kady, Penny 23, Julia had filled him in on the bigger parts, the scenes that they’d witnessed or Q had shared with them. Eliot hadn’t felt like he understood the whole story though. The memories of the Monsters possession was hazy at best. He had an opinion that the worst of the nightmares were actually his mind trying to make sense of the Monsters time in his body.

 

“Quentin, I’m the disaster. I am the broken person here. You’re so strong, brave, and kind always. You give second chance after second chance. I knew that when given a chance you’d realize that we don’t actually work. I wanted to be the one to make the call though,” Eliot whispered, slowly getting his bearings and clearing his throat. “I am a coward, and selfish. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner, and I knew that given the distractions or the chance I’d absolutely destroy both of us. I am so so sorry that I wasn’t honest with you Q, you deserve to be loved by someone who isn’t a fuck up or wrecked with ptsd. It’s too late now, but I’m glad you’re happy with Alice.”

 

Q felt the laugh before he heard it, bubbling up out of throat. What the fuck was Eliot smoking. He wasn’t happy with Alice, he was numb. It was like he’d been the niffin and unable to understand or access human emotions. They felt too strong and too scary. He was numb with Alice. He knew the moves, the words to say, the release of energy helped, but he wasn't happy.

 

“Are you fucking me Eliot?” Quentin asked, laughing and crying all at once. “I went to war with a Monster, you released, to get you back at any cost. I was willing to rip the stars from the heavens with my hands if only to hear your actual fucking voice. I didn’t even care if you felt the same as I did. I just couldn’t live in a world without you in it. Somewhere anywhere as long as you were happy I was okay with getting you back. Doing whatever the Monster asked of me to do if it got us closer to getting you back.”

 

Quentin was shouting now, and putting as much space between him and Eliot. Scrambling backwards till he hit the head board. Chest heaving and his ears ringing he stared at Eliot feeling like if the man moved, he bolt. He’d grab his coat and run. Never come back.

 

Eliot for his part was stunned, Quentin had felt this way. How had he missed how broken he was making Q by just existing in his world. Rubbing his face he started laughing too. Wincing as the laughs hurt the wounds on his chest from the axes.

 

“Then why date her?” he asked, when the laughter subsided.

 

“Because when I look at you I see him, the thing that wore your skin. I have moments of panic when you move too silently or I don’t realize you’ve walked into a room. I love you so much that I can’t be near you without thinking that it’s not really you.”

 

“You love me, even after everything my petty self-cowardice and insecurities has caused?”

 

“What part of burn the world down just to hold you one more time are you not comprehending. I have loved you probably since I met you. But absolutely everyday since we first found Fillory.”

 

“So that time in Fillory? The moments there...”

 

“No Eliot, that wasn’t where it started. Maybe where I was brave enough to act on it, but I have loved you for the better part of three years,” Quentin said, firmly. His body calming down. He no longer felt like he’d bolt at a sudden movement.

 

“I’m such an idiot.”

 

“Yes you are.”

 

“Can I hold you Q?”

 

“Please.”

 

Eliot moved slowly staying in Q’s eyesight so nothing startled him and then slowly wrapped his arms around the shaking nerdling. Running his hand over his back he held Q tightly in his arms. Slowly they shifted on the bed, legs tangling until Q was resting his head carefully on El’s chest and Eliot was tangled around Quentin like an octopus.

 

“I’m sorry I wasted so much time being a coward,” Eliot whispered, his right hand rubbing Q’s shoulders slowly.

 

“S’okay,” Quentin replied, his fears dissipating like smoke around him. Eliot even smelled like himself. Lime and juniper. The Monster had smelled like smoke and copper.

 

“It’s not, and I’m going to spend the rest of this life time making it up to you,” Eliot said softly, his body relaxing against the headboard of the bed. Quentin was already falling asleep. Eliot wasn’t sure the poor man had slept properly since they had fallen into the past of Fillory. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift off too.

 

Alice was the one to find them first. They were still sleeping when she appeared in the flat from another shift at the Library. Standing in the doorway she’d smiled softly. Alice wasn’t hurt this time. A part of her had known that she wasn’t the right person for Q. So while it hurt her that she wasn’t Q’s soulmate. Quinns weren’t delusional people and she knew that Q would have never gone this far for her.

 

He’d brought her back and for that she’d always owe him. Now though it was time for her to let him be happy. So she’d grabbed her stuff from the loft and moved to the Library full time.

  


Margo had found them next and had sent a bunny to Fen and Josh. Eliot had finally gotten out of his own way.

 

Julia had found Margo giving the bunny the message and been thrilled for her best friend. Leaning against the door. She used her powers and covered them with the duvet. If the two men slept for eternity they had truly earned the rest.

 

The next day Quentin had woken up looking around, this wasn’t his room. When a large and slender hand had rubbed his arm he’d looked up. Eliot was looking down at him. The same dopey grin that he got when they’d had really good sex. Quentin felt his face flushing as he looked down to reassure himself that they were still clothed.

“Did you mean it?”

“That I love you? Yes. That I’m going to spend the rest of this life proving it? Also yes.”

Quentin leaned up at that and cupped Eliot’s face in his hands. Hazel searching brown eyes. Leaning slowly and giving Eliot every out he could. When their lips met, it was every romance story coming to life. Sparks flew and his eyelids drifted closed. Eliot’s hands gripped his hips and then trailed up to hold him tight. Returning the kiss with everything he could.

 

They would have problems, arguments, and most likely amazing make up sex. None of that though would ever diminish the love they had for each other. Because really when two souls will go to war against gods for each other. What is a fight about toilet paper?

**Author's Note:**

> childoftimeandmagic on tumblr! If You liked it kudos and comments.


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